Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
27.Aug.17, 04:43 PM
The fact that Mother Nature was throwing a spectacular tantrum seemed of little to no concern to the young man sitting atop the large bronze dragon, the beast shifting with his wings half extended as he walked awkwardly down to the lake, the rain pounding his hide and creating a misty shimmer around him. Atop him, N'mor was soaked to the bone, his hair slicked down and pushed out of his face. He was riding his dragon without riding straps, a hazardous idea even if they weren't up in the sky: Rhezalth was slipping in the soggy ground as he made his way to finally stop at the edge of the lake. When Rhezalth knelt down, N'mor slipped lithely off him, and landed with a squelching splash in the muddy grounds.
"I am hearty sick of all this rain, Rhez."
As am I, the bronze acknowledged, looking up into the rain, one layer of his eyelids closed to protect them. At least it is not storming yet. I don't particularly care for lightening.
N'mor laughed softly, and slapped his bronze on the shoulder. "Well, you don't have to get in for a dip. You're wet enough to soap up without it." Moving over to the small hut near the lake, N'mor let himself in and returned shortly after with a large bucket of soap-sand, and a large scrubbing brush that he kept there. Some dragonriders preferred to keep their items in their private weyrs, but N'mor found it easier to keep it by the lake, as it meant trying to juggle less items in transit with a single arm.
Rhezalth sat down on his haunches to display his belly to N'mor, who began scrubbing there, the great dragon shifting to stand up and over his human to allow him the best reach for all the good spots - like in the creases where his legs joined his body, and between his toes. The great bronze hummed placidly to himself as he enjoyed the scrub, while N'mor rambled about whatever thoughts crossed his mind as he worked, one armed and determined. It had been a long growth for both him and Rhezalth for N'mor to get to the point where his non-primary (and only) arm was strong enough to successfully wash his whole dragon by himself. N'mor was quite sure he was stronger than most other dragonriders, who alternated between arms and took a lot of breaks when it came to scrubbing their dragons. The young man took quiet pride in that.
"Bring your wing down so I can do it, now, Rhez," N'mor said, shifting out from under his dragon to begin working on Rhezalth's wing, taking care with the thin membrane. "Thanks," he added, belatedly, before moving to the other side and demanding the other wing be lowered. After some time, he gave Rhezalth a friendly slap on the side and banished him to the lake to wash off what was left of the soap suds on him, since he'd been standing in the downpour the entire time. N'mor shook his hand, flinging soap bubbles everywhere, before wading into the lake to rinse off himself.
"I am hearty sick of all this rain, Rhez."
N'mor laughed softly, and slapped his bronze on the shoulder. "Well, you don't have to get in for a dip. You're wet enough to soap up without it." Moving over to the small hut near the lake, N'mor let himself in and returned shortly after with a large bucket of soap-sand, and a large scrubbing brush that he kept there. Some dragonriders preferred to keep their items in their private weyrs, but N'mor found it easier to keep it by the lake, as it meant trying to juggle less items in transit with a single arm.
Rhezalth sat down on his haunches to display his belly to N'mor, who began scrubbing there, the great dragon shifting to stand up and over his human to allow him the best reach for all the good spots - like in the creases where his legs joined his body, and between his toes. The great bronze hummed placidly to himself as he enjoyed the scrub, while N'mor rambled about whatever thoughts crossed his mind as he worked, one armed and determined. It had been a long growth for both him and Rhezalth for N'mor to get to the point where his non-primary (and only) arm was strong enough to successfully wash his whole dragon by himself. N'mor was quite sure he was stronger than most other dragonriders, who alternated between arms and took a lot of breaks when it came to scrubbing their dragons. The young man took quiet pride in that.
"Bring your wing down so I can do it, now, Rhez," N'mor said, shifting out from under his dragon to begin working on Rhezalth's wing, taking care with the thin membrane. "Thanks," he added, belatedly, before moving to the other side and demanding the other wing be lowered. After some time, he gave Rhezalth a friendly slap on the side and banished him to the lake to wash off what was left of the soap suds on him, since he'd been standing in the downpour the entire time. N'mor shook his hand, flinging soap bubbles everywhere, before wading into the lake to rinse off himself.
